


If Symptoms Persist

by billiethepoet



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Pon Farr, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17246120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billiethepoet/pseuds/billiethepoet
Summary: The aftereffects of pon farr do not go away as quickly as Spock would like everyone to believe. Jim can tell and he's ready and willing to help.





	1. Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [ Curry ](%E2%80%9Ditemfinder.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) for reading this and finding my typos.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to play around with graphics so have some cover art!

  



	2. Chapter 2

He follows his captain because there is nothing else to do. Jim survived the kal-if-fee and the immense guilt and sorrow bearing down on Spock has lifted. 

In the face of that miracle, what is one...understatement. Vulcans do not lie, but they do dissemble. It is true that Spock has lost all interest in T’Pring. His assurance that the madness of pon farr has entirely left him is less true. 

The doors swoosh closed and the captain twists the turbolift handle. 

“Bridge,” Jim calls out. The lights of the decks between Sickbay and the bridge flicker past. 

Spock stands, back ramrod straight and shoulders stiff, counting the seconds until he can bury himself in sensor logs and duty rosters and anything else that might come across his station. Anything to pull his concentration away from the tension still thrumming through his body. Anything to make him forget the feeling of Jim’s body underneath his own in the hot Vulcan sand. 

He suspects it will be a long time before he is truly able to forget that. 

“Computer. Pause turbolift.” 

Jim’s hand falls away from the turbolift handle as he speaks and the subtle hum of the lift quiets.

Spock keeps his gaze locked at a point just left of center on the turbolift door. Jim doesn’t speak and Spock hopes that he will restart the lift and they will reach the bridge without incident. 

Spock should know better. Jim Kirk is not one to shy away from uncomfortable conversations. 

The silence settles between them until it is almost comfortable. Until Spock almost believes Jim will let this go.

“Spock.” Jim’s voice is quiet but strong. “Are you sure that this is over?” 

He clears his throat. “The pon farr comes only once every seven years. I will not experience the symptoms again until that time.” Statements of fact and the obfuscation in his response settle against Spock’s chest with the warm weight of safety.

“You’re being deliberately frustrating.” There is no anger or irritation in Jim’s voice. Only fondness and friendship. Spock finally meets Jim’s eyes. 

Jim’s face shines with warmth and a sly grin. 

“I’m answering your question about the current situation.” 

Jim’s hand settles against Spock’s sleeve and Spock grips his own hands more tightly behind his back. 

“I’m not asking about the current situation. I’m asking if you’re okay.” 

The warmth of Jim’s fingers soaking through his uniform tunic makes Spock’s groin tighten. He holds Jim’s gaze and pours as much sincerity as possible into his voice. 

“I am fine.” 

Jim’s fingers slide down Spock’s sleeve, until they meet where Spock’s forearm rests against his back. For a moment, Spock’s heart jumps with fear and anticipation. Will Jim keep going and touch his hand? Rub their bare fingers against each other? 

Instead, Jim’s shifts his weight, drawing a fraction of an inch closer to Spock, and moves his hand to Spock’s hip.

“I don’t think you are.” He squeezes Spock’s hip and Spock fights to keep his eyelids from sliding shut. “This is new to you but I felt you down there, and I see you now. That lust isn’t gone.” 

Spock closes his eyes then, ears and cheeks burning with embarrassment. _And I see you now_. Spock’s cock throbs and he knows Jim can see the bulge of his erection through his uniform trousers.

Facts. Facts and scientific theory will save him. “I am the only Vulcan-human hybrid. How the pon farr affects me is unknown. I do not feel the same uncontrollable...desire I did before. But there are some lingering effects.” 

Jim squeezes again, thumb pressing into a spot on Spock’s lower back just above his hip bone. He thinks Jim’s fingers stroke against the fabric of his pants, but the touch is so gentle he can’t be sure. There are too many physical sensations assaulting him to correctly catalog. His body burns with want and his cock aches to be touched. 

“You’re a wonder. Unique.” Jim’s fingers definitely move now. His thumb crests over the peak of Spock’s iliac crest, bringing his fingers together and pressing the flat of his palm across the cradle of Spock’s hip. The tops of his thighs burn. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do this alone.” 

Spock’s heart rate is elevated to nearly 350 beats per minute. His hands are damp with sweat where he twists them together behind his back. His breathing feels shallow and inadequate. 

Jim’s palm slides down and inward until his fingertips brush, just slightly, against the root of Spock’s restrained and aching cock. 

“Spock, let me help.” 

Jim’s hazel eyes are full of love and affection. An intensity of feeling Spock has tried to keep contained inside himself his entire life. To fail is more than just a cultural faux-pas. It is an indictment of his family honor and his own existence. 

But Jim’s heart is big enough to hold the weight of it all for them both. Spock’s not sure what that weight encompasses, what it all means, but Jim is his first and only friend. They protect each other for reasons that go beyond service and duty. Spock cares for him. But more importantly, Spock trusts him. 

He grips Jim’s wrist, his fingers wrapping around Jim’s warm skin. A wave of Jim’s want and eagerness and tenderness crashes against Spock’s mental shields and Spock nearly bows under its force. 

He pulls Jim’s hand to cover his cock. “Please,” Spock whispers. 

Jim squeezes and Spock’s hips and breath stutter in unison. He’s had sex before, with both humans and other Vulcans. This lack of control must be due to the remnants of the pon farr in his system. Maybe sexual release will quell his desires. The desire he feels to take, to be taken, and to shout out his release. 

He continues to rock into Jim’s cupped palm. Jim applies pressure and strokes with just enough rhythm to tease. He switches tactics and touch without warning. 

Until his fingers dip into the waist of Spock’s trousers. The rough edge of a fingernail catches at the coarse hair just above Spock’s cock. 

“May I…?” Jim pairs his question with a tug at Spock’s waistband. 

He’s not completely sure what Jim is asking. He can’t predict the end scenario, beyond what he hopes is obvious, but he trusts Jim with more than could possibly be compromised in a turbolift. Spock nods quickly. 

Jim pops open the closure of Spock’s trousers and pulls them open as wide as they will go. Spock looks down and groans when he sees Jim run a finger across the wet patch on his black briefs. The head of his cock jumps to chase the touch. 

Jim hooks his fingers around Spock’s open trousers and his briefs. He pulls them to the floor with one slow tug. Jim follows the fabric to the floor until he sits, on his knees, at Spock’s feet. Spock’s cock bobs just a few inches from Jim’s face. 

A milky drop of precome gathers at the tip and slips over the head of Spock’s cock, running slowly over the underside of the double ridges on its way down the shaft. 

Jim leans forward and closes his lips around that droplet and sucks. 

“Jim,” Spock groans. His hands jerk forward, wanting to grasp at Jim’s head and pull him close. Instead, Spock flattens his palms against the cool metal of the lift at his sides. 

Jim runs the flat of his tongue from the base to the tip of Spock’s cock. He circles back to tongue at the ridges, sliding the tip of his tongue across them and between them until Spock’s knees shake. 

He grins up at Spock as he closes his mouth around the head of Spock’s cock. Jim keeps his eyes open as takes in as much of Spock’s cock as he can. He stops with about two thirds of Spock in his mouth and sucks, before sliding back up Spock’s length and tonguing at the tip again.

Spock’s balls are tight and hot against his body. He can’t look away from Jim, from Jim’s mouth sucking and enveloping his cock. Jim takes his length deep again, until Spock feels the head of his cock press against Jim’s throat. He pulls off entirely this time with one final, firm suck at the head of Spock’s cock. 

He reaches for Spock’s hands and Spock is overcome with a vision of Vulcan eroticism that Jim cannot fully understand. He meets Jim’s hands half way. 

Jim wraps their fingers together, sliding down and knocking knuckles against knuckles. Spock’s hips thrust forward and his cock smacks against Jim’s chin. 

Spock’s mortification is met with laughter from Jim. Warm, friendly laughter born from a shared joke rather than directed at Spock’s misstep. A hollow, empty ache settles around Spock’s heart but he smiles, just by softening the corners of his mouth, as Jim leans forward and kisses the head of his cock. 

He pulls Spock’s hands forward, until they wrap around either side of his head. “Here,” Jim says. “Take what you need. This is for you.” 

He lowers his head to take Spock’s cock in his mouth again. Spock’s hands slid through the silky strands of Jim’s hair until they cup the back of his skull, fingertips nearly touching. 

Jim sucks and licks and bobs on Spock’s cock while Spock contemplates his own hands. He wants to hold Jim still and thrust or pull Jim up and down in a rhythm he sets. 

_This is for you._

No, this is pon farr. It still burns in his blood and makes him unable to control himself. He fought it before and eventually succumbed to the plak-tow. His human biology must be a weakness, making him more susceptible than he should be. If he gives in and takes what Jim is offering, maybe it will be enough to provide satisfaction.

It’s pon farr. Nothing more. 

His grip tightens in Jim’s hair and Jim moans, sending tiny, tingling waves of pleasure to his balls. 

Spock rocks his hips forward, an experiment both in sensation and in what Jim will allow. What Jim wants. 

In response, Jim strokes his tongue along the underside of Spock’s cock. 

Spock rocks again, harder this time. Jim closes his eyes and his face is as calm and peaceful as Spock has ever seen it. 

He thrusts, in and out, going just deep enough to touch the back of Jim’s throat but not make him gag. He can feel Jim’s desire, joy, and relief wash through him as his own need tightens and coils in his groin. 

Jim wants this. Jim is enjoying this. 

More than that, Jim wants him. Jim is enjoying him. 

“Jim…” Spock’s voice is harsh and deep. He tugs at Jim’s hair in warning, but Jim grabs his hips and takes as much of Spock’s cock as he can, sucking until Spock comes down his throat with a quiet cry. 

Spock slumps against the turbolift wall as Jim sucks his cock clean with small, gentle movements. This is it. This is the end of his pon farr. Jim has burned the fever out of him with the white hot heat of mutual desire. It’s over. 

Emptiness shoves its way deep into Spock’s gut as Jim tucks him back into his trousers and does up his flies. 

He wants to reach out and touch Jim. To straighten his hair or wipe away the wetness on his lips. Jim manages both before Spock can raise the courage to try. 

Jim’s hand settles on the turbolift handle, but he doesn’t twist it or give the computer the command to continue their trip to the bridge. Instead, his other hand presses against Spock’s chest. 

Spock’s heart rate is still elevated and he hopes Jim can’t feel it. It’s all Spock can do to keep from covering Jim’s hand with his own. 

“If you have more problems with this, come to me. You don’t need to suffer. If you won’t come to me, go to Bones and let him look at you.” 

The idea of going to Dr. McCoy with a stiff cock and the urge to come, even if it’s just to seek his counsel as CMO, makes Spock’s stomach clench. Only Jim can see him like this. Only Jim can be with him when his guard drops and the lust his Vulcan ancestors worked so hard to contain breaks free. 

He wants this to be over, doesn’t he? 

“You have my word, Jim.” 

The smile that breaks across Jim’s face takes Spock’s breath away. 

“Good. Now, let’s go mind the store.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst ramps up here but I absolutely promise you a happy ending.

It has been three days, 13 hours, and 26 minutes since the turbolift opened onto the bridge after Spock’s return from Vulcan. 

It has been three days, 13 hours, and 30 minutes since Spock held his captain’s head firmly on his cock and came down his throat. 

Not just his captain. _Jim_.

Jim is his friend. Jim cares about him. Jim told him to come to him if the symptoms of pon farr had not abated. 

Spock stands at the end of the corridor, looking at Jim’s cabin door. He could turn around, go back to the turbolift, and retreat to his own quarters. 

If he did that, he would just continue to be haunted by images of Jim. Jim on his knees, Jim’s broad, sweat slick back bent under his hands, Jim’s cock, Jim writhing underneath him as Spock fucks him. 

Always Jim. 

This is still pon farr. It must be. His human heritage makes him weak to lust in a way other Vulcans are not. It’s the only logical explanation. 

His feet carry him to Jim’s door before he can reexamine his logic. 

The door chime barely finishes ringing when Jim calls out, “Enter!” 

Spock steps inside quickly. More quickly than usual and he’s suddenly self-conscious about his eagerness. 

The room is dim and cool. Spock’s eyes adjust to the low light but it will take longer for him to adjust to temperature. He thinks of the cool air on his naked skin and goosebumps begin to rise across his chest. 

“Spock.” Jim wears loose-fitting Starfleet issue pajama pants, black with a small command delta at the hip. That’s all he wears. His chest is bare and his hair is wet as if he just came from the shower. 

The temperature of the room doesn’t leave Jim unaffected either. His nipples are drawn in stiff points that Spock wants to pull into his mouth and lathe with his tongue until Jim begs him to stop.

He shifts uncomfortably as his cock grows heavier in his trousers. He takes a step toward Jim and then another, letting the heat in Jim’s gaze pull him forward. He stops only when the desk between them prevents him from moving any closer. 

Jim leans forward and rests his palms flat on the desk. “Is something wrong?” 

“No.” Spock’s voice is rough. He could clear his throat, but something about the deep, raspy sound of it excites him. 

Jim pulls in a harsh breath. His eyes dilate an additional millimeter and his nostrils flare. It seems Spock’s voice arouses them both. 

“Something I can help you with?” 

This was the question Spock had worried over. He couldn’t rely on Jim to lead them through this. Jim’s sexual experience was no doubt greater, his confidence in this area stronger, but it was Spock’s body that needed to be sated, his desires that needed to be met. The least he could do was articulate what he needed. 

“Yes. The symptoms of pon farr have begun to gather strength again-”

“Are you in danger of the blood fever again?” Jim interrupts him, worry carving a divot between his brows. 

“No. It is not that extreme. I do not need Dr. McCoy’s assistance.” Spock pauses, pushing down embarrassment and shame to say what he needs to say next. “I need…” _release, gratification, climax…_ “you.” 

Jim’s smile is slow and soft. Spock’s heart pounded against his side. 

Jim extends his hand across the table. “Come here.” 

Spock takes his hand. It’s warm and slightly callused on the palm, just below Jim’s fingers. Jim strokes his index and middle finger down the length of Spock’s own before grasping Spock’s hand to guide him around the table. Sparks of desire and pleasure shoot through Spock’s nerve endings, lighting up the psi center in his brain, and he can do nothing but follow Jim’s lead toward the sleeping area. 

Jim stops them next to bed and drops Spock’s hand. Spock wants to reach up and press his palms against Jim’s exposed chest, to feel the thick muscles and beat of Jim’s heart under his skin. Instead, he flattens his hands against his own thighs to keep from reaching out. 

His mouth goes dry looking at Jim. Looking at the golden glow the low light creates around Jim’s hair, at the softness and care in Jim’s eyes, and the quirk of Jim’s lips. He wants to say what he wants, to put voice to the fantasies that have been chasing him for the past three days, but being the first to break the silence around them is hard. Spock feels vulnerable and maybe a little foolish. He can’t reconcile those feelings with the heat and hardness in his groin. He wants but he does not want to want. Or, he does not want to be seen wanting. 

“What do you need?” 

“You,” Spock says again. 

Jim takes hold of Spock’s hand and raises it to his lips. He presses a dry kiss to the palm of Spock’s hand. 

“As flattering as that is, and it is flattering, I was hoping for some more specific direction.” 

The playfulness in Jim’s tone causes something light and almost giddy to bubble up in Spock’s chest. It’s familiar and puts Spock at ease. It also still feels like a miracle that someone wants to joke with Spock, to tease him, to be his friend. 

Jim is his friend and Jim wants to help him relieve whatever havoc pon farr is still wreaking on his system. Spock owes it to Jim to forthright and honest about his needs. 

Still, he closes his eyes before he speaks. “I want to undress with you and to touch your naked skin.”

Jim pulls in a sharp breath, causing Spock to open his eyes. Jim’s cheeks are flushed and lips part just enough to let his tongue sweep out and across them. Spock glances down the length of Jim’s body, to the obvious tent in his pajamas. 

Something deep and primal inside Spock sits up and growls. He arouses Jim. He makes Jim hard and wanting. His pride in that and seeing his desire reciprocated makes the next admission easier. 

“I want to fuck you.” 

Jim groans and caresses Spock’s the back of Spock’s hand, stopping before he reaches Spock’s fingers. It’s a tease and Spock’s primalism revels in it. 

“God, Spock. Can I kiss you?”

For a moment, Spock flexes his fingers in anticipation before Jim’s meaning sinks in. He wants to kiss in the human way. He’s familiar with human kisses, having participated in them several times, and it’s natural that Jim would want that. It simply never occurred to Spock to offer it. 

He steps forward, forcing Jim to drop his hand, until their chests bump together. He tilts his head toward Jim and bends his neck…

And is met with Jim surging up to meet him. Their mouths mash together and Spock’s teeth press against the inside of his lips. It’s uncomfortable but it stokes the banked passion in Spock’s gut to a full flame. 

He grips at Jim’s back with both hands, sealing them together. Jim’s tongue pushes into his mouth to tangle with his own. Jim’s hands scramble against his back and down to his ass. Jim pulls their lower halves more tightly together until he’s rubbing his cock against Spock’s thigh.

It’s almost like grappling in the gym, the push and pull of it. Spock attacks and retreats when Jim counterattacks. It’s strategic and frenzied and Spock has given almost entirely over to his baser instincts.

There is no fear of judgement here. No shame when Jim is undulating against him and matching his force with equal strength. 

Sweat begins to gather under his hands as they rove across Jim’s back. The smell and feel of Jim’s perspiration provokes that wild thing inside him again. Thoughts of Jim’s sweat-slick skin against his body have been at the forefront of his fantasies. 

Spock maneuvers so that he’s able to plant a foot behind Jim and use it to trip him back and a bit to the side onto the bed. It’s not as elegant a tumble as Spock imagined but it gets them to the desired location expediently and without any injuries.

That location being on Jim's bed with Jim flat on his back and Spock stretched out on top of him. 

This change in position has the negative effect of separating their mouths, but it gives Spock an incredible view of Jim gasping for breath through wet, red lips. 

“You said we’d be naked for this part, Mr. Spock.” 

“I did not state at which point we would undress, Captain. You assumed.” 

Jim huffs out a laugh as he rolls his hips into Spock. The laugh sparks something tender in Spock, while the press of Jim’s cock against his own sparks something else. 

“If you don’t get naked soon-”

Rather than wait for the end of Jim’s statement, Spock rises on his knees, straddling Jim’s lap, and pulls both his tunic and undershirt off in one motion. 

He moves to lower himself so that he and Jim are touching along the length of their bodies again, but Jim plants both of his palms on Spock’s middle to keep him upright. 

The pressure of Jim’s hands stills him. He breathes hard through his nose as Jim stares up at him, eyes wide and gaze hot. 

Jim’s hands tilt in, fingertips brushing the thicker line of hair just above his navel. They sweep down, following that line to the top of his trousers where his body hair flares back out again in a wider thatch. Jim presses his hands low on Spock’s belly and Spock can feel each and every hair straining into Jim’s touch. 

“I have waited a long time to be able to look at you like this. To be able to touch this.” His hands moved again, this time sweeping up over Spock’s pectoral muscles. His nipples pebble in a way the simple chill of the cabin could not cause. 

Jim does not miss Spock’s physiological response. He pinches and pulls at one of Spock’s nipples while his other drops to massage at Spock’s cock. 

Spock bows his back, trying to thrust both his chest and his cock into Jim’s hands. His success is marginal at best. 

Jim laughs again. _I will never tire of that_ , Spock thinks. 

Lost of a moment in his own thoughts, Jim surprises him. He surges up, steadies Spock with an arm around Spock’s back, and latches on to Spock’s nipple with a hint of teeth. 

Spock’s success at pushing both of his currently inflamed erogenous zones into Jim is greatly increased by the change in Jim’s position. 

He has a sudden flash of writhing in Jim’s lap in the captain’s chair. 

Spock will either come in his trousers from being in and thinking about being in Jim’s lap or he will move this encounter along. He jumps from Jim’s lap as if Romulans are on his tail. 

“Undress. Now.” 

He’s already got his flies open before Jim begins wiggling out of his pajama pants. The motion is more than enough to catch and hold Spock’s attention. Jim isn’t wearing underwear and begins to stroke his cock, one arm arched above his head, while Spock finishes undressing. He ends up working his way out of his boots and sliding off his trousers and briefs with more distraction than he anticipated. 

Spock wonders if Jim would stroke himself to completion at his command. 

Instead of entertaining that thought as thoroughly as he might like, Spock crawls back into the bed, his side fitted snugly against Jim’s.

His hand overtakes Jim’s. He strokes and squeezes and caresses until Jim’s hips lift off the bed on every downstroke. 

“If you’re going to fuck me, now’s the time.” 

The good humor is still in Jim’s voice, but there’s an edge of desperation too. 

This is what Spock wanted. What’s he’s been thinking about since Jim rose from his knees in the turbolift and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. The primal thing inside him beats at the flimsy cage of logic that holds it. 

He rises up on his knees and tugs at Jim’s hips. “Turn over.” 

Jim moves quickly, positioning himself on his hands and knees. Spock trails a hand from the curve of Jim’s ass to the base of his neck. He moves slowly, savoring the feel of Jim’s sweat-damp skin under his palms and enjoying the sparks of empathetic connection he receives from so much skin on skin contact. 

Spock pushes between Jim’s shoulders, forcing his chest to the mattress. 

“Christ, Spock…” 

He worried it might be too much. That the lingering symptoms of pon farr and how it made him behave would be too much. 

That Jim would balk at the ferocity of his nature, be afraid of him, but Jim moans and presses his ass higher into the air. 

Spock squeezes and spreads Jim’s cheeks. His cock has been hard since before he left his quarters and his patience is dangerously thin. He presses forward, lining up his cock with Jim’s hole. He takes a moment to rub the head of his cock, and the moisture gathered there, across Jim’s puckered skin. 

Jim rolls his hips to push back on Spock’s cock. Spock rewards him by pressing the tip in, just until the first ridge disappears inside Jim’s body.

He goes slow, much slower than he thought he could stand, but it’s for Jim. The primal thing curled around the base of his spine wants to take care of Jim, to break him apart with pleasure, so he goes slow. Sliding in a few millimeters at a time, giving Jim a moment or two to adjust, then sliding just a bit deeper. 

Jim moans and sweats and begs beneath Spock’s hands. 

It’s harder to stay slow after the begging starts. Luckily, once his cock is fully seated, Jim doesn’t want slow.

“Damn it Spock, move.” 

Spock pulls back, just halfway or so, and then slides smoothly back in.

“Harder. Please Spock. Fuck me. I want it. Please.” 

Spock can’t see Jim’s face and Jim’s voice is muffled by the Starfleet-issue bedding bunched up around him. Instead, he focuses on the wide expanse of Jim’s back and shoulders. A back he’s looked at longingly many times. 

He pulls back again and snaps his hips forward. Jim moans. 

The speed of Spock’s thrusts picks up until the noises coming from Jim are drowned out by his own grunts and the slap of his thighs against Jim’s. His eyes are partially closed and he’s sure he has never felt such a gratifying physical sensation as being balls deep in Jim Kirk. 

He catches the shadow of movement in his limited view. It takes several seconds for him to realize that Jim has taken his own cock in hand and is stroking himself in time with Spock’s thrusts. 

That primal beast rears up again and Spock sees red. He jerks Jim’s hand away, forcing it flat on the bed. His body bows over Jim’s so that his chest presses tight against Jim’s back. He wraps his arms around Jim’s middle and works his hips to fuck him as deep and hard as he can.

“No,” Spock snarls against the back of Jim’s neck. “You are mine. I will make you come.”

He’s fairly sure Jim is begging again, but Spock can barely hear the words. His world has narrowed down to where his skin meets Jim’s and the feedback of Jim’s own pleasure he’s receiving from that connection. 

He thrusts and grinds and fills Jim up, hands grasping at Jim’s chest and ribs, until the pressure in his mind and body builds to a crashing wave. He bites down on the soft skin that connects Jim’s neck to his shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin or cause real pain. Jim throws his head back, panting, moaning, as Spock comes inside him. 

As Spock claims him and makes Jim his mate. 

No, that’s the pon farr again. It will fade. This need, this burning want, will fade as soon as his human physiology catches up to his Vulcan half. 

He kisses the back of Jim’s neck. He won’t want this anymore. 

Spock carefully pulls back, cold setting in against his sweaty skin as soon as he stops touching Jim. He flips Jim onto his back. Jim stares up at him, flushed and spread wide. He’s no longer begging but it he opens his mouth as if to say something. His eyes shine with affection. 

A slice of panic stabs through Spock’s heart and straight to his stomach. He doesn’t let Jim speak. Instead, he dips his head and takes Jim’s cock in his mouth. He uses his mouth and hands to take Jim apart and make him forget whatever it was he was going to say. 

Jim’s fingers dig into Spock’s hair and caress the points of Spock’s ears as he comes down Spock’s throat. 

Spock swallows it all.

He won’t want this soon. He won’t want Jim like this.


	4. Chapter 4

He has come to Jim 27 times in approximately 17 weeks for sexual gratification. 

Spock can’t say he has come to Jim’s quarters 27 times because he’s fucked Jim in the sonic shower at the gym, twice, and Jim sucked him to completion in the astrometrics lab. 

It’s been too long and too much. 

But Spock’s here again, outside Jim’s door, awash with the need to see him and to touch him. 

Jim re-coded his door to allow Spock entry after the third week. Jim never comes to Spock’s quarters. Their liaisons are always at Spock’s instigation. 

The door swooshes open and closes behind him. Jim sits at his desk, frowning at his computer monitor. That frown melts away when he looks at Spock.

“Hi,” Jim says, slow and sultry. He leans back in his chair and Spock’s stomach swoops down to his boots. 

He clasps his hands behind his back. “If this is an inconvenient time, I can return at a later time.” 

Jim switches off the monitor and rises. “No. Incident reports are just frustrating me. You’re a welcome relief, Spock.” 

Jim never calls him Mr. Spock when they’re alone anymore, unless he’s teasing. Spock should stop this. Instead, he walks forward as Jim rises and stops at the side of the desk. 

He watches as Jim stretches. A flash of stomach is revealed as Jim’s tunic rides up and Spock licks his lips in response. By now, his mouth has covered every centimeter of Jim’s body but it can’t hurt to cover the same ground more than once. 

Spock is too busy considering the most efficient way to run his lips across his favorite parts of Jim to notice that Jim has taken ahold of the hem of his tunic. Jim brings him back to the present with a tug on that fabric. 

“How was beta shift? Did long range sensors pick up anything interesting?”

Spock cocks an eyebrow. “I filled my report over an hours ago, sir.” 

Jim tugs again. “Humor me.” 

Spock takes both Jim’s hints. He pulls his tunic over his head, leaving his undershirt. “Nothing worth diverting for. A class one nebula and a small solar system which appears to be uninhabited. No transmissions of note.”

“Good, we’ll stay on course for Starbase 4.” Jim slides a hand from across Spock’s stomach to settle on his hip. “You know, I meant for you to take off both your shirts.” 

“I know,” Spock replies. He makes no move to remove his undershirt. 

Jim chuckles and moves both his hands to the bottom of Spock’s undershirt. “So, this is one of those nights where I’ll have to do all the work, huh?” 

Gooseflesh breaks out across Spock’s stomach as Jim pulls his undershirt up. Jim has fucked him on several occasions. Once, on the same night Spock had fucked him. His wants are always strong and well defined. Sometimes he wants Jim over him, inside him, blocking out any rational thought with his care. Other times, Spock needs to possess, to control, to bring pleasure. 

He takes over removing the shirt when Jim gets it halfway up his chest. It’s not a night for Jim to do all the work. 

Jim manages to get both his shirts off while Spock is stripping off his undershirt. Spock takes hold of his hips and pulls him close. 

Spock kisses him, long and slow. Just the way he’s learned Jim likes. It’s a gradual build of pleasure that takes a measure of Spock’s control to maintain. His passion is like a banked fire tonight, rather than the dangerous open flame it often is. 

But, still, he came. He could not stay away. 

He walks Jim back, pushing him back into his chair. 

Their lips break apart as Jim sits. Spock smoothes his hands down Jim’s arms, across his chest, and along his thighs as he sinks down. He settles on his knees between Jim’s legs. 

Spock presses his thumbs along the inside seam of Jim’s trousers, guiding them up until they nudge against Jim’s balls. He slides his palm up to cup Jim through his trousers. 

“Let me make you feel good.” 

“Christ, Spock.” Jim cradles Spock’s face in his hand. He runs a thumb along Spock’s cheek bone. “You always make me feel good.” 

Too long and too much. He should have put an end to this after the first time. He should have gone back to Vulcan and thrown his human half on the mercy of T’Pau and the rest of his clan. They would have found him a mate. This would have ended.   
He works Jim’s flies open instead. Jim lifts his hips just high enough to allow Spock to pull his trousers and briefs down. They pool at the top of his boots. 

Jim’s cock is plump but not yet hard. Spock takes it in his mouth anyway. He’s gentle as he sucks at the fleshy bundle of nerves just below the head of Jim’s cock.

“Spock…” Jim groans. He runs his hands over Spock’s head and through Spock’s hair. He dips two fingers down to trace the arch of Spock’s eyebrow. 

Spock works Jim’s cock until it’s fully hard in his mouth and Jim’s hips thrust up. He wraps a hand around the base of Jim’s cock to stroke in time with those thrusts. 

The sensation of his sensitive fingers around Jim’s cock shoots sparks of pleasure through Spock’s entire body. His cock throbs in his trousers. He presses his free hand to his bulge as he continues to pleasure Jim. 

Jim cups the back of his head. “Spock?”

Spock stops his movements but does not remove his mouth or hand from Jim’s cock. He looks up in response to the question in Jim’s voice. 

“Open your trousers and stroke yourself properly. I want to see it. I want to see you.”

He has to close his eyes for a moment before following Jim’s directive. Finally, with his own cock in his fist, he goes back to working Jim’s cock. He sucks as he strokes. His lips slide down until the meet the top of his hand, and then back up to the head of Jim’s cock. He plays his tongue over Jim’s frenulum. 

He matches the strokes on his own cock to Jim’s thrusts into his mouth and does not try to stop the sounds the moans and whimpers being pulled from deep in his chest. Spock knows Jim likes to hear him and to feel the subtle vibrations of Spock’s voice around his cock. 

Jim may like to hear his vocalizations even more when they are muffled by Jim’s cock, Jim’s fingers, or even the Starfleet issue sheets on Jim’s bed. Spock infers this from the increased speed and force of Jim’s thrusts. He moans around Jim’s cock again and is met with a thrust so hard the head of Jim’s cock impacts with his soft palate. Jim mumbles an apology and strokes his jaw. 

It appears to be a viable theory. Spock squeezes the base of his own cock as a reminder to show restraint. 

His restraint doesn’t last long. Sweat glistens on Jim’s chest and he’s murmuring Spock’s name along with a string of endearments Spock is too embarrassed to listen to too closely. He feels his own orgasm building along with Jim’s. 

Jim’s fingers tighten in his hair. “With me, Spock. With me.” 

Spock hums his agreement while taking Jim’s cock as deeply as he can. He sucks hard, just the way Jim likes, until Jim cries out in release.

He comes across his own hand, Jim’s trousers, and the floor as he swallows Jim’s orgasm. He keeps swallowing until Jim loosens his grip and goes back to stroking his hair. 

Spock pulls back and, unable to look at Jim, rests his forehead against Jim’s bare knee. 

“Spock...Spock...Spock…” Jim whispers, still stroking his hand through Spock’s hair. It always takes Jim longer to return to normal after orgasm. Logic and shame are already crowding into Spock’s thoughts. 

He waits until Jim is quiet before speaking. 

“I should report to Dr. McCoy.” _Too long and too much._

“Why?” Jim sounds confused but Spock still cannot face him. “Are you ill?”

He rolls his head against Jim’s knee. Any touch he can share with Jim is worth suffering this subjugation, but it has to end too. 

“Even accounting for my human physiology, any effects of pon farr should not have lasted this long. I may need to request medical leave to return to Vulcan.” It hurts him to say it. Every word is ripped from his throat. 

Jim’s fingers find their way under his lowered chin. The gently apply pressure until Spock gives in and looks up. 

Jim’s eyes are soft, full of the adoration Spock has pretended not to see for years now. His mouth turns up at the corners in a gentle smile. 

“Spock, this isn’t pon farr. It’s just us.” 

Something in Spock’s brain grinds to a halt, while another part rushes ahead. That couldn’t be. Vulcans did not desire like this. It wasn’t possible for other Vulcans to feel this way and maintain their control. It had to be pon farr.

Unless, it was because he was also human. 

Had his mother’s genetic influence made it impossible for him to fully follow the teachings of his father’s people? Had he been doomed to fail from birth? 

Jim leans down and kisses him gently, chastely. Spock lets him. _Failure._

“Sexual desire is normal, Spock. Even for Vulcans.” 

He shakes his head. Denials and shame and a growing sense of rightness cloud his mind and make his chest feel tight. “No. Not for Vulcans. Only once every seven years.” 

“Bullshit. You don’t really believe that Vulcans only have sex, only love and allow themselves to be loved, once every seven years. That may be when they have to let their physical desires take hold, but it can’t be the only time.” Jim’s voice remains soft while he speaks. Spock can barely stand it.

He had never considered the difference between _need_ and _want_ in this context. Surely, there have been times he needed Jim. But, if Jim had turned him away, he would have respected that. Even in his deepest haze of desire, he could have walked away. 

This was not pon farr. Maybe at first, but not now and not for a long time. 

Spock has never been adept at deciphering human emotions based on facial expressions. His mother tried to teach him but it felt too dangerous to learn. Even with that lack of practice, he knows Jim is looking at him with love. Love that goes beyond their shared physical intimacy and friendship. A love that takes both of those experiences to build something even stronger. 

He surges up and captures Jim’s mouth. Joy bubbles up in his chest. He cannot express it, he cannot put it into words. Not yet. Instead, he pours it into Jim with his lips and his tongue and his hands. 

He is happy. He is a failure. 

They break apart but Jim loops an arm around his shoulders and won’t let him pull back too far. 

“Stay the night. I’ll replicate you a spare toothbrush.” As much joy as Spock feels, even more is shining back at him from Jim’s eyes. 

The urge to run rises. “It is difficult for Vulcans to share a bed with other people. When we sleep, we cannot maintain our mental shields. Even incidental physical contact can be...distracting.”

Jim is undeterred. It’s a valuable trait in a captain, but one that may cause problems with a lover. “I’ll cover up as much as I can and if you can’t sleep-” Jim shrugs. “-you can head back to your quarters. It will take adjustment but we’ll work it out.”

Spock wants to kiss him again. Jim may be the only person who has ever _tried_ so hard for him. His quiet understanding has caught Spock off guard since the day he took command. 

He lets Jim pull him to his feet. Jim gently rubs their fingers together. It’s not a traditional _ozh'esta_ but nothing about this is traditional for Spock. And the sensation is better. 

He suspects that’s because it is Jim, not because of how their hands touch. 

His emotions run riot over rational thought. “I should meditate. There are things I need to consider more carefully and with more clarity.”

Jim nods. “Of course.” He pulls their joined hands up to his chest. “This will take work, Spock. Hard work. But it’s yours, if you want it.” 

Spock stares at their hands. “Yes.” 

Jim huffs out a relieved laugh. He rubs the back of Spock’s hand against his chest. “You had me worried there.” 

“There was no cause to worry.” He holds Jim’s gaze and pushes as much earnestness and commitment as he can through those words. 

“Good.” Jim kisses the back of his hand and suddenly playful, carefree Jim is back. “You can’t do all the hard work in one night and you’ve already but some effort in. Stay the night.” 

“Yes.” It’s perhaps the easiest agreement Spock has ever given. 

Jim wears socks, long pajama trousers, and a long-sleeved shirt to bed. Spock wears his undershirt and briefs. Long pajamas would be more comfortable for him as well, but Jim’s will not fit and he will not leave to fetch his own. 

Jim falls asleep on his side, back to Spock. Spock lies on his back contemplating the ceiling. Finally, he shifts so the curl of his shoulder brushes Jim’s back. He hooks two fingers into the pocket of Jim’s pajama trousers and falls asleep. 

He sleeps through the night.


End file.
